


Techno Brite

by Beth Harker (Beth_Harker)



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Birthdays, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Jeremy is anxious but everything works out happily, M/M, all relationships can be read as romantic or platonic, mentions of underage drinking and drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 18:03:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18451781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beth_Harker/pseuds/Beth%20Harker
Summary: Jeremy gives Michael a 90 dollar box of crayons.





	Techno Brite

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to see a picture of the box of crayons that inspired this fic, go here:
> 
> http://icouldwritebooks.tumblr.com/post/184107915030/y2kaestheticinstitute-crayola-techno-brite

Jeremy buys Michael a ninety dollar box of crayons. 

A lot of stuff comes together to make that happen. It's not like Jeremy usually buys Michael art supplies, especially expensive ones. He's more accustomed to scrounging for change in his couch cushions on those days that Michael is too good for words, and the only thing to do is treat him to a slushee at 7-11. What's going on is that Jeremy is still feeling guilty over the whole Squip ordeal. Furthermore, Jeremy’s dad seems to believe himself to be personally in Michael’s debt, which might be true. Technically the entire world is in the debt of Michael Mell, and only a very small subset of humanity knows it was saved from the brink of destruction by a nerdy, autistic, _stoned_ teenager’s love of vintage soda. At any rate, in early February, Jeremy’s dad gives him a hundred bucks, and tells him to pick out something ‘appropriate’ for Michael’s seventeenth birthday at the end of the month.

Jeremy scours lists of weird 90’s items. Expired snacks and drinks always get Michael going, but he's made himself sick off those more than once, and Jeremy doesn't want to _encourage_ Michael to drink rancid soda until he vomits. Cheerful food poisoning that is ‘totally worth it’ is still food poisoning. Pogs are low hanging fruit — Michael already has too many of those for them to be special. Furbies are terrifying, and neon inflatable couches are (for obvious reasons) on the very long list of things that increase Jeremy’s anxiety. There's something inherently uncool about Beanie Babies no matter how out of production they are, so those are another thing Jeremy can't get Michael. 

This gift has to be good. Michael keeps gifts. Up until Jeremy’s brief but fucked up stint playing puppet to an evil robot, Michael kept almost every present Jeremy had ever given him. Those things are gone now, as are most of Michael’s past gifts to Jeremy, which the Squip made Jeremy throw out. The significance of this birthday present is big. It’ll represent the start of Jeremy and Michael keeping pieces and reminders of each other around again. 

(Unless Michael doesn't want that, and throws away whatever Jeremy gives him, but that's a stupid thing to worry about. Maybe. Hopefully. It's _probably_ a stupid thing to worry about.)

“You could make him something,” Christine suggests over the phone. 

“I suck at… uh…” Jeremy smacks his lips. “I mean, that's not where my talents lie? I mean, the last time I made him something was when I was like five or whatever, and I don't remember what it was, but it was probably something dumb like a macaroni card, and he definitely liked it, but…”

“You could replace it!” 

“I could,” Jeremy says, dragging out the words. A macaroni card isn't the right idea, but he still needs a minute to process why. 

“I can help.” 

“Even if I did, I have actual money to work with.” 

“Make him the card, and also buy him something. It’ll remind him of your rich, enduring past together.” 

“That's it!” Jeremy’s voice gets a little too loud, and a little too fast. He takes a breath, and licks his lips. He's figuring something out, but that doesn't mean he has to do so sounding like a high-pitched, crackling, hyperactive cartoon character. “That’s it,” he says, with deliberate slowness, now too deep, and too ‘cool’ sounding, but in a weird teen movie stereotype way. 

( _Someday_ Jeremy will get to the point where he's not painfully self-aware, but today is not that day.). 

Jeremy clears his throat. 

“Um, Jeremy?” Christine asks, uncertain. “Do you need your inhaler or something?” 

“No. No. What I need is to move forward, and Michael too. That's why I've got to give him something new, not replace something old. I don't wanna live in the past. At least not our past. I mean, technically I probably will give him an old thing, but a new old thing, not something from before.” 

“That makes sense,” Christine agrees. “So what kinda newishly old, avant-garde stuff have you got in mind?” 

“Nothing good enough so far, which is the problem.” 

———————-

A week before Michael’s birthday, and Jeremy still hasn't got the perfect gift. He's got bigger problems at hand, namely his friends. They want to throw Michael a surprise party, which is nice, except that parties and surprises both fall under the category of things that Michael only enjoys grudgingly, and in small doses. He went to Christine’s New Years thing, but that was deliberately quiet and small. He went to Jenna’s birthday, but that was after purposefully scheduling an “appointment” to clean his mothers’ kitchen at precisely seven o’clock, so he would go into the event with a clear idea of when it was going to end. Michael’s relationships with other members of the Squip Squad have come a long way, but he has specific playlists that he listens to to rev up if he knows he's going to be hanging out with anyone other than Jeremy or Christine. Festively ambushing Michael isn't the way to go.

Jeremy tries to bring that up when the others are making their plans at PinkBerry after school. 

“Don't be stupid,” Chloe tells him. “We’re doing things he likes.” 

“Like weed,” Brooke adds. “I'm going to get themed plates and everything. I'll bake. We’ll get baked. That was a pun. Anyway, he’ll love it.” 

“What time will it end?” Jeremy asks. 

Chloe raises her eyebrows at him. “If you’re asking so that you can wander off, just the two of you, or—” she gestures to Christine “—the three of you…”

“I'd flip if someone ever threw me a surprise party,” Rich interrupts. 

“That's a great idea,” says Jeremy. “Let's throw a surprise party for Rich instead of Michael.” 

Jake slings an arm over Jeremy’s shoulder. “All in due time, my friend.” 

As the others continue to talk over the details of the event to come, Jeremy sinks down into his seat. It's too bad that when the Squip was training Jeremy to hang out with the popular people, most of what he learned was how to look good and be taken along for the ride. Some lessons on how to steer things without resorting to bids for world domination would've been nice. 

Maybe the trick is to make some small suggestions for changes, and once those get accepted, ask for a larger one. 

So, Jeremy leans forward. He suggests that instead of using Rich’s PlayStation for games, he bring his Nintendo. He suggests that there is totally a place for all that booze that Rich’s brother is going to help them score, but maybe they could have some Capri Sun too, ‘cause Michael likes it. He suggests that they tell Michael and let him help them plan. 

“Do you think he’ll get mad if we just spring the party on him?” Christine asks, and she's _so_ close to getting it, yet so far. 

“Well,” says Jeremy, “not _mad_ , but…” 

“But nothing,” says Jenna. “The point of having a surprise party is that it's a surprise. And I'm saying this as somebody who hates keeping secrets. This is the least we can do with how much we owe Michael.” 

“I hate owing people things,” says Chloe. “Especially people who I can't figure out, no offense to the birthday boy. Let us do this and get it over with.” 

“It’ll be fun,” says Brooke. “Promise.” 

It might be fun, but it still won't be Michael’s definition of fun. Jeremy is ready to say so, when Chloe fixes him with a pointed stare. “Don't ruin this,” she says. 

When it's time to go, Christine hangs behind, claiming that she needs to go to Pet Smart to buy some new toys for her rabbit. She asks Jeremy to come with her. 

“That way I won't have to walk home alone,” she explains. “And besides, I might need a second opinion, and I trust yours. In fact, I trust your opinion a ton.” 

In the store, surrounded by cages full of hamsters and gerbils, she asks Jeremy if he's chosen a gift for Michael yet. 

“Nope!” Jeremy smiles wide. It's not happiness. He wants to bite somebody. If he could just give vent to his feelings, he'd be the fiercest creature in this entire pet store. 

Christine takes a step away, flinching. 

“Sorry.” 

“You know you know Michael better than anybody else, right?” 

“Yeah, well…” 

“The others are looking for closure from what happened at the play, just like you are. There's no reason you can't let them go through the motions they need to go through, while still going through the motions you need to go through.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Warn him about the party, and tell him to act surprised.” 

“Michael’s not a great actor,” says Jeremy. “Trust me. He gets weird.” 

“As far as the others are concerned, Michael’s always weird.” 

Jeremy frowns. “Well, he's _not_ , and they don't get to say he is. Michael is amazing. He's—”

“Weird isn't a bad thing! They think I'm weird too. The weirdest. I wouldn't want it any other way.” 

Jeremy’s shoulders slump. Christine is right, of course. He's been trying to own his own weirdness lately, to re-teach himself that even if the ways he sticks out from the crowd have made him a target in the past, those things also make him himself. It's just that the Squip Squad in general is less in sync with Michael than with each other, seeing as he never shared a telepathic neural bond with the others, and for all that Michael is obviously and intensely protective of Jeremy, Jeremy is protective of Michael, too. As the instigator of this whole tight-knit friendship with their former bullies thing, Jeremy is kinda required to be. 

“You good?” asks Christine. 

“Yeah.” 

“Do you think I should get the carrot shaped chew or the flower shaped chew for my bunny?” 

“Uh…”

“You see, the carrot shaped chew is stereotypical, but it's also bigger and costs the same amount of money. The flower chews are super cute, and nothing beats wooden flowers for adding atmosphere to a room, even if that room happens to be a rabbit hutch.” 

“Could you get both?” 

“Genius!” Christine says, giving Jeremy a peck on the cheek. 

 

—————-

Jeremy goes over to Michael’s house that night. After two rounds of Apocalypse of the Damned, Jeremy pauses the game, patting Michael’s controller. This has long been an established gesture between the two of them when they need to talk.

“What's up?” Michael asks. 

“I'm going to tell you something, and you can't tell anybody I told you. In… in fact, you have to specifically act like I didn't tell you, so don't tell anybody I told you what I'm about to tell you, okay?” 

“Yeah man, of course,” Michael says, and now he's got that soft trying-not-to-startle Jeremy quality, which isn't what Jeremy wants. 

“Okay.” He takes a deep breath, then lets it slowly out. “At precisely seven o’clock next Friday night, I'm supposed to invite you over to my place in the guise of a quiet sleepover. What's actually going to happen is that the house is going to be dark, then everybody is going to jump out from behind my furniture and shout ‘surprise’ and then we’re gonna cut up a cake in your honor, and some people might get drunk or stoned, and there will probably be music, and plates! There will be plates. Brooke’s excited about those.” 

Michael fidgets with the game controllers. He doesn't hit unpause just yet, but he keeps glancing back at the screen. 

“Are you cool with all this? We can think of something if you’re not. We can… um… fake your death or smuggle you out of the country or something.” 

“What time does it end?” 

“Never!” 

“Ah. Got it. So it's one of _those_ parties.” 

“Is it okay? I'm not sure if I already mentioned that it's for your birthday, but it is. It's a surprise party for your birthday.” 

“It’ll have to end at eleven,” Michael decides. 

Jeremy nods rapidly. 

“I'll promise my moms that the living room windows will be washed before midnight. Are you gonna to sneak out of my big surprise party and help me with that?” Michael casts Jeremy a grin that almost feels like a touch, and Jeremy wishes he could wrap his arms around Michael’s waist, but he doesn't. 

“I'd like that.” 

“Good,” Michael says. He unpauses the game, so Jeremy picks up his own controller. “Thanks for telling me,” Michael says. “Whose idea was the whole jumping out from behind furniture thing?” 

“Rich. The party was Brooke’s, and the absolute refusal to back out no matter what was Chloe.” 

“Sounds about right. Did you tell them that I want one of those paper crowns, like they have at Burger King, and a bowl of Skittles with all the purple ones removed?” 

“Wait, what?” 

“Come on Jeremy. You’ve gotta be my representative here.” 

“Well, if you’re going to go full out diva about it…”

“Entertainment should consist of B list celebrities and 90’s drug PSAs accompanied by a classically trained orchestra.” 

“I’ll see what I can do. Just make sure to act surprised, okay?” 

“Will do. And you just be ready to sneak off to my place at eleven.” 

———————

Upon getting home, Jeremy’s feeling 120 percent less tied in knots about the party debacle. If Michael is okay with it, than Jeremy is too. Jeremy’s taken the necessary steps to make sure that Michael will be okay about it, because in the case of his best friend, Jeremy knows better than Chloe, whether she likes that or not. 

His best friend! It's been a while since Jeremy’s been able to think that without a bucketload of angst. It's amazing what taking care of a situation instead of agonizing over it does for Jeremy’s overall mental health. If he hadn't talked to Michael like he did, he'd probably still be worrying over Michael, and by extension everything else in the known universe, from the zit on his chin, to the health insurance forms that his dad is supposed to be filling out. His Squip would be acting up, and worst of all, that birthday gift would never get bought. 

Jeremy is not completely unenlightened as to his own moods. He can recognize a good one when it comes up, and he knows he needs to ride it and get as much shit done as he can before it disappears. He gets online, searches ‘90’s toy nostalgia’ on eBay, and comes out of it ten minutes later having purchased a box of Crayola ‘Techno Brite’ crayons from 1997. 

———————-

Doubt sets in on the morning of the party. The Crayons arrive in the mail. They have names like _green.com_ and _Megabyte Blue_ , which would normally represent peak 90’s techno-cringe, but could also maybe serve as a reminder of Jeremy’s own cringetastic technological adventures. Would Michael’s thoughts, every time he picked up his shiny new _cyber space orange_ crayon be tinted by Jeremy’s many mistakes and betrayals? 

Probably not. After all, Michael and Jeremy both continue to use and enjoy technology in their lives. Computers are awesome, as long as you don’t ingest them. Old computers are even awesomer. Crayons referencing old computers so clumsily that they might’ve been named by somebody who’d never actually used to the internet in their life are the awesomest. 

Jeremy will just have to trust that Michael doesn't see the worst possible intentions in everything he does. So far, Michael hasn't treated anything that Jeremy does as weird or wrong, even when those things include chewing up his lip when he gets nervous, or calling him in the middle of the night when he can't sleep. Michael isn't going to hate the crayons or look for faults in them. He's going to like them, and things are going to be fine. The voices in Jeremy’s head that keep insisting otherwise are going to just have to die mad about it. 

———————-

Michael, predictably, does a hilariously bad job of faking surprise at the surprise party. If anybody is weirded out by it, they don't say so, and it winds up being a good evening. 

Jeremy and Michael leave at eleven, as planned. Again, nobody notices, except for Christine, who offers them a wink and a discreet wave. She's also promised to get everybody out of Jeremy’s house at a reasonable hour, and enlist his dad to help if necessary. 

On the fifteen minute walk to Michael’s house, Jeremy keeps his hand in his cardigan, gripping the wrapped gift in his pocket. 

“Are we doing the windows?” he asks inside. 

“Nope. Said they'd be clean by midnight, not that I'd clean them.” 

“Your moms got them?” 

Michael nods. “Awesome, right?” He's got a lazy smile, and a nice buzz on. “Wanna listen to music?” he asks. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

They go down to Michael’s basement bedroom. Michael puts Bob Marley on his old stereo, and flops down in bed, patting a space to invite Jeremy to flop down besides him, which he does. 

“Good night?” Jeremy asks. 

Michael hums in response. Jeremy rubs his thumb over the gift. 

“I… um…” he taps Michael’s shoulders, and Michael rolls over to face Jeremy. “Here,” Jeremy says. He takes the gift out and pushes it towards Michael. 

“Mell,” Michael retorts. 

“Stop being an ass and just open them.” 

Michael tugs at the wrapping. “Crayons! Gnarly.” 

“Old crayons.” 

“Oooh.” Michael brings them to his nose, and sniffs them. It makes Jeremy feel warm and happy, above and beyond what makes sense. After all, it's just Michael being a certified weirdo and sniffing wax. Who even does that? 

~~(More importantly, who else makes sniffing wax look so attractive.)~~

Maybe it's just that Jeremy built this gift giving thing into this big event in his mind, but it isn't. It's small, and peaceful, and intimate. It's nice. 

“Read the names.” 

Michael opens the box, removing one at random. “‘Plug and Play Pink’,” he reads. “Is this some kind of a weird sex thing?” 

“No! Oh my god, read a different one…” 

“‘Floppy yellow.’”

“ _Another_ one.” 

“‘Megahertz Red’. Oh! Okay. Yeah. I get it now. What year?” 

“Ninety-seven.” 

“Seriously? These are amazing!” 

———————- 

That's almost all of it. Jeremy and Michael talk for a while, then fall asleep. When Jeremy wakes up in the morning to use the bathroom, he's not thinking about the crayons any more. He's not really thinking of much at all, other than doing his thing and going back to bed. When he does, however, he feels a rush of satisfaction, because Michael is holding on to the crayon box in his sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> See Beth.
> 
> See Beth make a concerted effort to lay off the angst....
> 
> (For once)
> 
> (The general consensus when I try to write happy fics is that I have still accidentally written angst, so hopefully that is not what I've done here. Jeremy did, admittedly, worry a lot, but it's hard to stop him from doing that. )


End file.
